


untamed two

by sisyphus



Category: Ozark
Genre: Multi, Spoilers for Season Two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 16:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisyphus/pseuds/sisyphus
Summary: **SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2**Ruth calls in a favor to her slightly estranged older cousin, Black Tara. Tara is cunning, smart, ruthless, and shockingly sophisticated — for a Langmore, at least — so, who better to help run some of Marty’s business dealings? With the staggering success of the Casino, Marty aims to strike hot with all his other businesses, and he immediately realizes that Tara could be the key to making that happen. With her LA connections, surely his debt to the cartel will be paid off in no time, right? No trouble could possibly come from trusting another Langmore, could it? Only time will tell.





	1. intro




	2. fifteen minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short little intro chapter :)

“Three! Get yer ass up, it’s time for school, I’m not going to tell you again!”

“Can I just have fifteen more minutes, Ruth?” He whined, sitting up in bed as his confused half-lidded eyes searched until he found his older cousin standing in the doorway.

She had her hands on her hips, an angry expression dusting her pale features, the sunlight shining in behind her making her blonde hair look like a halo. “Absolutely not! I have to meet Marty at the strip club and the longer you lay in that bed, the later I’ll be.”

Three grunted and rolled out of bed, rushing to get ready, weakly glaring at Ruth’s retreating form.

“Fifteen minutes! We were supposed to be gone fifteen minutes ago!” Marty yelled down the hallway, raising his eyebrows in a silent inquiry as Charlotte and Jonah poked their heads out of their respective rooms. “Chop chop! I’ve got multiple meetings today. And with your mother overseeing things at the casino, I need you guys to be on your p’s and q’s.”

Marty’s teenage daughter groaned and went back to doing what she was doing, being sure to take her sweet time about it. This caused her father to pace and run his hands down his face in exasperation as he waited. Jonah came rushing out of his bedroom, backpack and coat on, struggling to stomp his feet all the way down into his winter boots by the front door. “Sorry dad, I overslept,” the young boy said after managing to get his boots on and laced up.

Marty cast a sideways glance at his son, his thin patience written all over his face. “Were you up late again?”

“Doing homework,” Jonah replied quickly, only being saved from further chastising due to his sister walking into the room. She was wearing a faux fur jacket and her jansport backpack. “Finally,” Marty sighed, walking over to the door and opening it. Charlotte slid into her LL Bean boots and didn’t even bother tying them. If she didn’t at least put a little pep in her step, she was sure her brother and father would leave her.

After locking up the house, Charlotte yelled that she called the passenger seat, causing Jonah to swear under his breath.

 

 

By the time the young Byrde’s were dropped off, Marty was already running late to meet Ruth at the club... and he somehow knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it. His drive to the strip joint wasn’t too lengthy but he finally allowed his mind to wander off to more beautiful things, things much more beautiful than the dreary cold weather of the Ozarks. On his drive, Marty thought about Rachel, about her lips on his; their secret kisses being the only thing to give him solace since Wendy decided they wouldn’t flee.

He hadn’t done anything more serious than kissing the other woman, not yet at least. They shared some light touches and squeezes, but nothing more. Marty reeled himself back in from such tempestuous thoughts, sighing heavily as he pulled into the parking lot of his destination. A small smirk making it’s way onto his face as he pulled in the same time Ruth did.

Getting out of the car, he raised an eyebrow at her from his place across the lot from her. “Yer late!” she yelled, not wanting the howling wind to drown out the sound of her voice.

“From the looks of it, so are you,” Marty yelled back, closing his car door and shaking his head. When Ruth didn’t reply, making her way towards him and the club, he gave her a small smile in preparation of whatever sassy remark she was going to throw his way. “Relax, Byrde. It was only fifteen minutes, for fuck sake,” she shot as she finally made it to him. He tsk’d at her and she rolled her eyes, bypassing him as she made her way to the club. He followed.

Once inside, Ruth started the opening procedures and Marty helped even though he didn’t really have to. After the two had finished up, a whole three hours later, they discarded their coats and took a moment to relax at the bar before the girls got there to start practicing and warming up on the poles. Though they didn’t have the best strippers, they sure had some dedicated ones.

Ruth grabbed two bottles of beer and handed one to Marty. “It’s only like 11:45,” He said, feigning protest even though he wasn’t going to turn down a beer with all that was going on in his life at the moment.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ruth started, ignoring his prior statement entirely, in favor of getting right down to business.

“Uh oh,” he said dryly, taking a sip of his beer soon after.

She narrowed her eyes at him, turning on the stool to face him more directly. “No, listen, hear me out,” she pleaded, as much as a Langmore was capable of pleading anyway.

“Fine. What is it?”

“We can piggyback success for the club and the blue cat off the success of the Casino,” Ruth suggested, her words rushed; a nervous habit.

Marty stared at her for a moment, shaking his head soon after. “No no no, I already thought of that. Wendy already shot that idea down,” He said, eyes drawn to the neck of his beer bottle.

“Are you seriously still letting her wear the pants in the relationship? C’mon Marty, once she sees how good we’re doing she’ll have to get on board. And not before you get to hear her apologize and say how wrong she was.”

He spared a glance over at the young woman, rolling the bottle around in his hands. “I do love to hear her say she was wrong...” He started, trailing off into a pause. “But..”

“Oh god, here we go,” Ruth sighed, rolling her eyes soon after.

He held his hand up a bit, trying to prevent her from getting too annoyed with him. “Wait wait wait, let me finish. I was just going to point out that she and the cartel would probably have our heads for making plans behind their backs.”

Ruth bit her lip, mulling over the validity of his words; he wasn't wrong, not by a long shot. But there was always a silver lining when it came to shady dealings such as theirs. "They'll only kill us if they find out before we can prove it to be profitable, or if we fail," Ruth added, eyes wide with the prospect of actually executing a good idea and getting on better terms with the Cartel, who had already tried to kill her once.

Marty stared at the neck of his beer bottle, noticing in his peripheral that Ruth began to down hers, her head tilted all the way back as she finished it off in one go. Impressive. He sat quietly for another moment before deciding he should at least hear her out, the idea of showing Wendy she wasn't the only Byrde who knew their way around laundering winning out.

"And how do you expect to do this, we can't do it on our own, you know?" Marty finally asked, his eyes straying over to her face, the pensive expression he found there almost making him want to scrap the whole idea.

However, Ruth sighed, turning to face away from him in favor of facing the bar directly; she liked the glint of the more expensive bottles of booze, they were awe-inspiring. "Well, I've got this cousin..." she started, causing Marty to raise his eyebrows. "You mean three?" He asked, honestly confused as fuck. She chuckled and shook her head, "No no, she's sorta like an outcast."

Marty pulled a face, honestly wondering what a person had to do to be cast out of the Langmore family. The cogs in his brain turned, but they didn't have to do too much work, because she was speaking again before he could even make it down a full list of what he thought to be the most unscrupulous acts.

"We call her Black Tara... because she's, y'know, half black. Boyd had her when he was real young and Daddy made him keep her away, said having a black person in the family tarnished the Langmore name," She said, in that winded way she spoke whenever she was telling a story, even if it was just the cliff notes. Marty digested the information, a sad look in his eyes just from how casually Ruth was able to talk about it. Man, that family was fucked up. And that's coming from a man at the head of a money laundering family.

Marty looked away to take a long sip of his beer, only looking back at her when she started talking again. "So, anyway... Tara moved out to LA, but me and her kept in touch over the years. She does this sorta promotin' type thing, and I think she'd be perfect to come in and revamp our clientele. The more money in, the more we can wash. She's a good luck charm, Marty, and I don't even believe in no shit like that. Tara can come in and tell us good ways to promote the businesses off one another."

He nodded his head, digesting her idea fully. He didn't quite like the idea of bringing in another Langmore, but from the sound of it, she seemed like she'd actually been brought up like a functioning member of society... unlike her redneck counterparts. After a beat he looked at her with his answer. "I'm going to have to pass," he said before working on drinking down the rest of his beer, the front door to the club opening and bringing in the cold light of day.

Ruth smirked and hopped off of her stool, looking towards the door where Marty didn't even think to look, assuming it was just the strippers coming in. "Well, that's too bad, because she flew in this morning," the young woman said to him through gritted teeth and a smile, giving a wave over to the other young woman who just walked in, looking and smelling like new money.

Marty's eyes widened, spitting out his beer on the bar. After his initial shock had warn off, he swiveled his stool to face towards the door, watching as Ruth bounded up to her slightly older cousin. The two women embraced and Marty felt like he'd been had.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

"No, no, no, no, no!" Marty screamed from the back office, Tara idling by, suitcase in hand as she waited for Ruth to come back out; so far, all she'd heard was a world-class screaming match between a grown man and a little blonde twenty-something.

"Marty, why can't ya just give her a chance!"

"Because I said no. When was it that I said no, Ruth? OH, ABOUT TEN SECOND BEFORE SHE WALKED THROUGH THE DOOR! How could you be so reckless and disrespectful?"

"Disrespectful?! I'm tryna save yer ass, Marty!"

It grew silent on the other side of the door, and Tara was actually starting to worry. The two either started having sex, or they killed each other, but from the looks of those two she'd bet on the latter. She was about to lean her head in to get a better listen but then the door opened, her younger cousin storming out of the office and strip joint in one fell swoop. Tara watched with wide eyes before slowly turning her head to peer into the office and look at Marty. Their eyes locked and he moved his head to gesture for her to come in and close the door.

 

  
"I know you've come all this way, and I know you're really good at what you do, but I just can't offer you the position," Marty said, sitting behind his desk and twiddling his thumbs, avoiding having to look at her.

She sat in the chair across from his desk, an incredulous look on her face, arm folded as she stared at him. If a word had to be used to describe Tara, in that moment, pissed wouldn't even begin to cover it. "You could at least look at me while you fire me," Tara snapped, her lack of a southern accent somewhat refreshing, but he knew she wouldn't have one; she grew up in LA, Langmore or not, she was no southern belle.

Marty looked up at her, laying his hands flat on his desk as he did so, "I-I'm technically not firing you... you'd have had to work here fi-"

She raised her pointer finger, effectively telling him to shut the fuck up, leaning forward in her chair as she did so. "Listen, Mr. Byrde... I get it," She said, a sweet yet evil little smile on her face.

He looked downright flabbergasted, mostly because she had on a v-neck t-shirt and he could see right down the front of it, but also because she was staring at him with those beautiful brown eyes and smiling at him with those big pouty lips. "Y-you do?" He asked, fighting to keep his eyes on hers.

She nodded, leaning back in her seat again, "Of course, I do. Your problem is, you just don't understand how much you need me."

He inhaled sharply, confusion on his face, "I- I need you?"

Tara nodded again, "Of course, you do. But I just have to prove it to you, which I can definitely do...If you let me."

Marty sat back in his chair, staring at her, his hard gaze wavering at her words. She was persuasive, he'd give her that, it had been quite some time since he let a woman talk him into something using just their words; other than Wendy, that is. He steepled his fingers under his chin, thinking over the proposal again. He had to admit he was almost swayed when Ruth ran it by him, and had she given him another week to think it over, he probably would have eventually said yes. But where Ruth was aggressive and abrasive, Tara was cool and dangerously persuasive, and the proposed plan could actually work out; and if it didn't work out, he'd gladly die, especially with the way shit had been going since the Casino opened.

"What are you suggesting you do to convince me?" Marty asked, plainly curious.

Tara tilted her head and smiled, twirling a strand of her wavy brown hair around her finger, "I can double your profit tonight, in fifteen minutes. All I'm asking is that you give me fifteen minutes to make you love me, Mr. Byrde."

He looked at her, a pensive expression on his face as he swiveled side to side in his office chair.

After a few minutes he said, "Deal. And call me Marty."


End file.
